Sadness isn't a bad thing

Last week I posted that for some reason, I was just...sad. I didn't know why, and that general sadness has continued, ebbing and flowing over the last week. I've had many joyful moments, I've had many joyful events, and truly, I have no right to complain about anything.

Even a friend of mine noticed that something wasn't right, and I was amazed. I looked over the emails we'd exchanged, and I just didn't "see" what he was reading in them. But then again, sometimes friends can see what we can't.

And I have to admit...I AM still sad, although I've been able to identify some of the cause. It's not something I'm willing to share on the blog. But I have taken it to prayer and I'm trying to let God speak to me about this. Maybe the time will come to talk about it, but not here.

And don't worry...it's nothing criminal or awful. Just life.

There are a lot of things weighing on me right now, but I'm constantly amazed at how even when we don't "feel" like God is close, He reveals himself in small, loving ways.

Tonight I'm at work, waiting for a program to finish so I can lock up the building and go home. One of the benefits of working in a Church is access to the church and the chapel, and I often love to spend time with Jesus as he rests hidden in the Tabernacle. I don't know why, but I've had some truly profound experiences when He is not exposed in the monstrance. Maybe it's the privacy, as no one else is generally around. Or maybe it's just that I'm more open, somehow. But I know that Jesus is present, and it's enough.

I had turned on a few of the lights, and sat down to pray Evening Prayer just as a thunderstorm arrived overhead. Then, from the back of the church, I heard a door open, and a man poked his head in, then quietly moved through the church and knelt down near the votives to pray. I returned to my own prayer, and, upon finishing, sighed and took my leave of Our Lord. Just as I passed a pew behind me, I saw a little piece of paper. Leaning in closer, I saw that it was a prayer, so I turned it over to reveal an image of the Infant of Prague.

This particular image and devotion has continued to appear here and there in my life for a couple years now, and it's something I was introduced to many years ago. But tonight, especially, I was stopped and knelt down again, right on the floor where I stood, facing the tabernacle once again, as I said this perfect prayer to the Infant of Prague.

Jesus knows what weighs us down and sometimes literally gives us the words to pray when we can't seem to find them for ourselves. Maybe our friends can see that something is wrong with us, but God...He sees all. He sees the secrets we hide and can't speak to another. And He comes to us in those moments of solitude to teach us HOW to pray, and to reveal that He knows our pain so that we won't think we suffer alone.

Yes, I'm still sad. But it's nothing to worry about; part of life involves being sad, and sometimes it's a proper response. Sometimes it's what we need, for when we suffer we find that God waiting for us and welcomes our questions and our prayers. Or even our silence in His presence.

Tonight, God blessed me both with a little love-note in the form of a prayer I couldn't compose on my own, and then gave me an opportunity for evangelization.

At the end of my prayer, I left the church and so did the man who had entered. We crossed paths in the hallway, and he asked if the Adoration Chapel was closed? I explained where it was, thinking maybe he was visiting the parish and looking for it. As it turned out, he was only curious; he'd seen me near the tabernacle praying, so wondered why, and he apologized for his question, not wanting to intrude. I was happy to answer, though: I was praying in the church because Jesus is just as present in the tabernacle as He is in the Adoration Chapel.

And any time I can make that point with someone, it's a joyful occasion.

God just loves making connections...little ones for us to give us strength, and public ones for others, to help lead them closer to Him.

So, as you can tell, even if I'm a bit...melancholy...these couple weeks, I'm in a good place, one where God is present in spite of me.